


Lust Spells and Other Things

by justafan (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Smut, Some Plot, Teenchesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 20:57:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3502523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/justafan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam are both teenagers. Dean is his typical womanizing, leather clad, impala driving smartass self. But no one knows that's a façade and he's secretly a virgin. Little does he or anyone else know that Sammy isn't. Dean finds out the hard way that Sammy isn't so innocent. After his realization he starts having not so brotherly thoughts about Sam. But are the feelings real or are they from a spell? This is hard to summarize, don't hate me :)</p><p>Just FYI, John Winchester isn't in the story much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning #1 There will be smut, and probably more cursing than necessary.  
> Warning #2 There's an original character, Caleb. Don't worry, he's just a buffer, not major.

Last week royally sucked. John and Dean had spent it on a case looking for a witch. When they finally found her she wasn’t even a witch. Just a dumb chick playing with herbs, she’d watched Bewitched a few too many times. People were freaking out for nothing and the entire week was wasted. To wind down a little bit Dean decided to cook one of Sammy’s favorites for supper. They rarely got to eat home-cooked, and Sam at least, deserved that aspect of a home.

Dean tossed a grimy skillet into the sink and clicked the burner off. He let down the oven door, releasing the smell of garlic throughout the kitchen. With one hand he gets the bread from the oven and yells for Sam to come eat. As Sam enters the kitchen Dean is setting a couple of plates out.

“Awesome” Sam says to himself at the large portion laid out for him.

“Yeah well, you said you were hungry.” Dean sets Sam’s plate at the table and he goes to run soapy water in the sink.

“Thanks. Aren’t you gonna eat?” Sam asks him. Dean picks up one the metal fused sponges.

“In a little while maybe.” He starts scrubbing at the skillet. He wants to get the grease off before it stains on.

“Dean! Did you pick up those shells I asked about?” John Winchester appears in the kitchen and starts to help himself to food.

“What shells?” Now he’s scrubbing at the pot he’d used to boil noodles.

“The ones I asked you to get and start filling with salt two days ago.” John gripes at him.

“Sorry Dad, I didn’t remember. I’ll get them in the morning.”

“You make sure you do that. I’m getting tired of you not listening to a word I say.”

“Since when do I not listen…” Deans mumbles under his breath, still fidgeting in his dish water.

“You got something to say to me boy?” John put his fork down and set his eyes on Dean.

“No, Sir.” Dean says half-heartedly.

“Look at me when you want to address me.”

Dean pulls the plug from the drain and wipes his hands as he turns to face his dad.

“I said I’m sorry. I’ll listen better from now on. Sir.”

“That’s what I thought.” John goes back to eating and Dean leaves the room. Sam is still sitting there awkwardly pushing noodles around his plate.

“Dean did good for supper didn’t he, Dad?” Sam commented on the quality of the food. John’s voice is thick with aggravation.

“I guess, I never had a knack for cooking. Seemed kind of girly for my taste.” John flips open his newspaper and Sam decides trying to make small talk is moot. He finishes silently and sets his plate on the counter. Dean isn’t in the living room so Sam pecks on his bedroom door. He hears Dean’s voice and assumes he’s invited in.

 

“Hey, you wanna come with me tonight? I’m gonna go to the library. They’re screening Star Wars.” Sam looks at Dean whose untangling head phones from around his portable CD player. Dean laughs a little bit at Sam’s offer.

“Star Wars? Really Sammy?” Making Sam feel stupid.

“Sorry I asked. I just thought we could hang out.” Sam backs out of the room and Dean stops him.

“I know man, sorry. Thanks for asking but maybe another time.” Sam could see that Dean was upset about something so he let it go.

“Sounds good.” Sam shuts door and leaves Dean to his music.

 

The next evening Dean walks to the couch with his plate of reheated supper. He plops his weight hard onto the plaid cushion next to his brother. He reached across Sam, who was lost in his book, to snatch the remote from that arm of the couch. Sam gives a small huff of disapproval and Dean just can’t let it go.

“Excuse me for existing, Sam.” He flatly snarks at him. There are four other seating options, Dean absentmindedly wonders why he chose the middle cushion close to Sam, but he doesn’t move. His brother gives him a fraction of a head shake but doesn’t take his eyes away from the book. Dean props his socked feet on the old wooden table and throws his arm across the back of the couch, sprawling. He clicks on the TV and starts going through the channels. Looking for anything mildly amusing. But, of course they don’t have cable. He probably shouldn’t complain though, he’s lucky that there’s even a TV. Neither of them know how long they’ll be in this town, but Dean knows that the rent has been paid until next month. So hopefully it’ll be at least that long. Somehow Sam’s expression has grown even pissier. His lips are pressed a little harder shut, and his eyes have narrowed a bit more. Dean quits flipping through channels. He settles for the news and turns the volume up, maybe he’ll find a case. The news anchor is in the middle of a story about a guy who was shot and killed at the mall. Poor guy, what a horrible place to die.

“So Dad says you got plans tonight?” Dean brings up, trying to be civil.

“Mhmm” Is all he gets as a response.

“You know it’s Saturday, right? You aren’t sick are you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with legit plans on a weekend.” Dean teases.

“It’s a lock in, Dean.” Sam still doesn’t look at him but his tone isn’t amused.

“Whatssat?”

Sam rolls his eyes and shoots an annoyed glare towards Dean.

“It’s me and about fifteen other guys staying the night at school. We play games and do random crap until about six in the morning.”

“You’re staying the night at school? To play games? Wow, you are a lifer.” Dean can’t hold back his laughter. Sam goes back to reading his book, and ignoring him. Dean takes a sloppy bite of his spaghetti, and Sam slaps the book shut as Dean catches a glob of sauce from his chin and re-aims for his mouth.

“Is that really necessary?” Sam twists putting more space between them, and getting a more direct angle on his brother.

“What, eating? Yeah, actually it is. People are ‘sposed to do it somethin’ like three or four times a day. You haven’t tried it?” Dean pretends to be surprised.

“No, you jerk. The loud TV, the loud eating, the talking, the incessant need to take up more space than three people your size would need.”

“My _size_? You callin’ me little, Sammy? I’ll show you little.” He just wants to argue with Sam, he feels like it’s his duty as a brother.

“God, you’re incredulous.” Sam sighs. “I give up.” He tromps, book in hand down the tiny dim hall towards his bedroom.

“Well you’re a bitch…” Dean mutters under his breath as he goes for another bite, knowing Sam wouldn’t hear.

 

Dean is bored. Really bored. He’s taken every gun in the house apart, cleaned it, and put it back together. And that’s a lot of guns. He’s practiced throwing knives, hell, he even put some rock salt into shotgun shells. Sammy isn’t usually great company, but at least he’s somebody. He left a couple hours ago for his geek gathering thing, and now Dean has no one to pester. He isn’t sure where Dad is, he hadn’t mentioned a hunt so he was probably just at the bar or somewhere close.

Dean paced for a while and finally his boredom got the best of him. He’d been invited to a party. It was some guy from school that he barely knew. But, for some reason the kid seemed to think he was Dean’s friend so he’d been telling him about this party for weeks. He’d wanted Dean to come because he thought there was a direct correlation with Dean’s presence and how many chicks would show up. The kid was probably right. For reasons unknown to him, people always assumed that Dean got a lot of ass. Really he doesn’t, not that he couldn’t. He knows when it’s offered, and it’s offered a LOT. Every single day. The girl down at the gas station, the thirty year old but still hot waitress over at the diner, a hundred of the hundred and ten girls in his class have made a pass at him. Dean’s pretty sure that even a couple teachers have eye raped him before. He knows it wouldn’t take him a full ten seconds to get a girl, there’s just something missing. In every girl he’s ever been around there was something that just wasn’t _right_ about them. Maybe he’s secretly a softie and wants a connection with someone before they have sex. Maybe he wants to know what love feels like and not just to get off. He’s never been able to go through with a hook up. His reputation is that his standards are just too high. They think he runs off at the last minute because he’s mysterious, and he has other women waiting. He isn’t sure why he can’t bring himself to have meaningless sex. But he likes the reputation that the façade has given him. He can handle people thinking he’s a ‘womanizer’ he gets more respect from the guys that way. Dean grabs his keys and decides tonight is the night. Fuck it. People think he’s a whore, he might as well at least be gettin’ some.

Dean parks along the street of a huge house that’s too fancy for his tastes, and blaring music. He knows it’s the right one, there are people running in and out of the front door. Someone is either sleeping or dead, lying motionless and pretty much clothes less in the yard. He shuts the engine off but considers going home. He hasn’t even made it inside yet and he’s already dreading this.

“HEYYYY! You made it!” That guy from school, Dean thinks his name is Caleb, is hanging his head inside Dean’s passenger window. Dean cringes at the sight of that kid touching _his_ car. His baby.

“I did.” Dean sighs and gets out of the car. The kid immediately wraps a loose arm around Dean’s back, leading him into the house. Dean only has to catch the guy twice from falling on the steps to his door. He’s obviously drunk. Would’ve suited him better to just have let him fall. He’d have deserved it.

“Here.” The guy hands him two beers.

“Do I look thirsty?” Dean asks.

“Huh?” The kid replies, looking dumb.

“Why do I need two?” Dean asks as nicely as possible. The kid’s hazel eyes light up with drunken amusement. They’re kind of the same color as Sam’s. Dean notices the way his gums show a little when he smiles that big. Something about it made Dean feel like strangling him a little less.

“OH!” He laughs with realization and Dean smiles at his dorkiness. “I figured you’d need one to lube one of these chicks up with.” Dean’s smile quickly goes away and he feels like strangling again.

“I think I’ve got it covered.” Dean sets the beer down and tries to walk away from Caleb. He feels a hand on his forearm and he turns back to face him.

“C’mon man, just offer it to somebody.” He really wants Dean to take two beers for some reason. Dean can see he’s just trying to be nice so he finally accepts the extra. He nods and walks away. He finds a corner that’s the least populated and he goes there to assess. The whole house seems dark, except for what he assumes is a disco light. Big spotlights of random colors are rotating throughout the room. There are a few strobe lights to boot, and Dean takes a second to be grateful he doesn’t have epilepsy. The music is ear splittingly loud, and it sucks at that. Some mainstream pop-like bullshit. He wonders why he ever thought this would be a good idea, then he remembers he wanted to get laid. God, he must have split personalities. He doesn’t want to fuck anybody, he just wants to get out of this hell hole. He takes a swig of his beer and wonders if he can escape unnoticed.

“I thought I told you to offer that to somebody.” Caleb appears in his face again, looking friendly but obviously wasted. Dean had forgot he even had the extra beer in his hand.

“Yeah…” Dean notices that Caleb doesn’t have a drink, not that he needs any more. “You want a beer?” He holds it up at the kid and smirks at the loophole he’d found. Caleb’s face is unreadable, but he still looks happy. He laughs and flips his shaggy hair from his eyes. The motion reminds him of Sam. Caleb takes the beer and drinks about half in one take. Dean watches awestruck. How is this boy still standing? Dean realizes that Caleb had finished his drink and now he’s just staring at him. Dean looks awkwardly away and coughs a little. The kid sets the nearly empty beer down.

“Come on.” Caleb gives him that too big smile again and grabs Dean’s hand. He starts to lead him down a crowded hallway. Dean knows he should pull his hand out of the guys. But for some reason his brain hasn’t caught up to speed yet. He wonders why no one they’re passing in the hall seems to notice that he and Caleb are attached at the hand. Better yet, why isn’t this weird? Wait… ok, the brain had a chance to catch up. Maybe it is weird. They’re at the end of the hall, Caleb’s other hand is on a door knob when Dean pulls out of the boy’s hold. Caleb turns to face him looking confused, and possibly rejected.

“What’s in there?” Dean asks looking at the door.

“Umm, a bed?” Caleb sounds like he’s trying to be reassuring. Dean feels glued to the floor.

“Why you goin’ to bed?” At that Caleb grins at him. This time it’s small and kind. Before Dean knows what is happening Caleb’s face is attached to his. The boys lips are soft and moving timid against his. Dean doesn’t know what to think, but his tongue has an idea. It graces across the boy’s bottom lip and he takes it as an invitation to open. That’s when Dean realizes what was happening. He pushes Caleb away and wipes at his lips with the back of his hand.

“What the fuck was that?” He snaps at Caleb. The boy doesn’t look upset now, just mischievous.

“Follow me in here and I’ll show you.” He says. Dean looks at him then at the bedroom door and wonders if this is for real. Isn’t he supposed to be disgusted or something? He should probably think about this but he doesn’t. He did, in fact, come to get laid. No one knows he’s a virgin after all, maybe a guy’s expectations of him won’t be as high as a girls. Maybe it’ll be easier this way. The look of resolve must’ve colored his face because Caleb had the bedroom door open, and Dean against him again before they were even completely in the room. With that Dean gave in. Fuck it. He was gonna ravage this kid, and hopefully Caleb would be too drunk to remember. Or, with a party like this no one would believe the rumors anyway. I mean, who would think that the womanizing, man-whore Dean Winchester would fuck a guy? Dean was pulling at the boy’s belt and had a hand beneath his waistband. As their bodies pressed the door shut he threw the belt to the floor with a clank. That’s when he and Caleb both realized there were people already mid-fuck in the room. The man on the bed didn’t seem to notice their presence, he was too busy plowing the girl’s ass that was beneath him. Dean’s eyes go blown. His hands jump off of Caleb as if they’d been burnt, and now there’s at least five feet of space between the two boys.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Sam?!”


	2. Chapter 2

 

If it wasn’t for the blonde chick beneath Sam wiggling out from under him, Sam wouldn’t have stopped. At least it didn’t seem like he had any intentions of it. The girl’s naked body glowed red with embarrassment. She grabbed at her clothes and held them in front of her. She mumbled a “’scuse me” at the two strangers, and a “sorry” back at Sam. She rushed passed them, out the door before even getting dressed. Sam just sat back on his heels, looking simply annoyed at best. He didn’t bother covering himself or even moving really. He just stared at Dean. His expression didn’t have an ounce of shame. It was pretty much the same face he’d seen earlier when Dean had been aggravating him on the couch. Sam sat quietly and waited for Dean to speak.

Words seem to have escaped him for a moment. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Sam’s bare body. He was radiating sex. He hadn’t realized how muscled his baby brother had gotten. Last he’d checked, he was just a tall bunch of lanky. Not that he ‘checks’ on a regular basis. And god, where’d that tan come from? Sam’s never outside. Damn, it looks like he’s glowing. Since when has Sam looked like this? While Dean was assessing his younger brother, Caleb had gotten over his stent of shock. He took a step closer and wrapped his arms from behind around Dean’s stomach. Dean looked down at the hands, he’d forgotten that guy was even here. He feels teeth nibbling at his ear lobe, and that’s when he gives the guy a swift elbow to the chin. Caleb stumbles back and brought a hand to his face.

“What is your problem?” Caleb yells at him. Dean doesn’t have time to think whether that was really called for, or not. All he knows is that he damn sure doesn’t want Caleb touching him right now.

“You. You’re my problem. Get out of here!” He demands in as gravely of voice as he can muster.

“Why?” The kid whined, then looked over to Sam. His gaze lasted a little too long. “Because you want him?” Caleb accused. And Dean snapped.

“Don’t look at him!” Dean barks out and he notices how Sam’s expression quirks subtly. Caleb doesn’t respond and the room grows as heavy as it is quiet.

“It’d be in your best interest to get THE hell out of this room, you dick bag!” Dean says to Caleb then turns his attention to Sam, this time just his face and forces himself to ignore the apparently kind of hot body. Caleb finally gets the hint. He leaves, closing the door behind him. Now it’s just Sam and Dean watching each other. Finally Dean forms a thought.

“You’re supposed to be at _school_!” Dean knows it’s a dumb thing to lead with. Sam still doesn’t respond.

“Do you not have anything you wanna say to me?” Dean finds the words somewhere. Sam’s expression is still that he just thinks Dean is being petty. Sam looks up and sighs. Like, he’s going to be doing a favor by explaining himself. Dean’s seen the expression before, but only when it was aimed at their dad.

“Way to be a cock block, Dean” He speaks for the first time. With the perfect tone to match his bitch face.

“Like you have any room to talk!” Dean snaps and immediately regrets it. He obviously didn’t think that one out. The room fell silent again. One side of Sam’s lips turned up at that comment.

“About that, since when do you bat for both teams?” Sam asks him innocently.

“I DON’T!” Dean declares, and his brow furrows in frustration.

Sam laughs. “Could’ve fooled me.” Sam gets off of the bed. Standing there naked and still half hard, he eyes his brother suspiciously. Dean’s head snaps to the ceiling when he notices that Sam is appraising him. He holds his gaze there for a second before he realizes how idiotic he must look. He looks down and walks over to a dresser. He runs his hand across the cherry stained grains of it, as Sam finally decides to get dressed. Neither of them talk, and Dean doesn’t turn around. Sam stops just behind Dean’s back before he exits the room. It seems like he knows that Dean has something else to say.

“Hey Sammy?” Dean’s anger has deflated now. Sam looks at him and waits for more.

“I didn’t know you were… uh…”

“You didn’t know that I was what?” Sam’s voice is soft, kind.

“You know,… like, having sex…” Dean looked away and shuffled awkwardly. Sam just smiled sweetly at him.

“I just like my privacy, Dean.” He replies. He eyes his brother meaningfully. “You alright?” He asks.

“’m good.” Dean answers and clears his throat. Sam nods and goes back to the party. When the door is closed Dean lets out a breath, like he’s a balloon that’s been popped. He hadn’t realized how much tension he’d been holding in. He thinks back to Caleb. Yeah, that elbow to the face was probably uncalled for. Dean knows he should probably apologize, but he’d rather have to wipe his ass with a cheese grater. He wonders too, when did Sam grow up? How is it that sweet little, dorky Sam is secretly a hot grown man who’s lying about his whereabouts, and having crazy sex at a house party? Dean’s chest tightens with something that feels like grief. He decides to ignore it for now, and that maybe something stronger than a beer will help him relax.

 

Dean is sitting on the arm of a couch that he’s sure was too expensive to be sitting on the arm of. He was about five shots of some cheap liquor in. It was supposed to be whiskey but Dean doesn’t think it deserves to be called that. There’s a cute quiet girl sitting on the cushion beside him. She’s pretty much ignoring him except for a few random brushes of her shoulder against Dean’s thigh as she turns to talk to her friends. Next to her the circle of people go to floor level. Most of them are sitting cross legged, a few are laying down. Someone had the bright idea of playing ‘Never Have I Ever.’ Dean didn’t really want to play, but he assumes Caleb quickly got over their incident since he’s the reason that Dean is having to participate in this stupid game. He felt he owed Caleb at least this much. Sam was in the circle too, and that made Dean pretty nervous. His little brother wasn’t supposed to be at this party. He was supposed to be playing some nerdy games at school. Dean isn’t supposed to allow this behavior, and he damn sure isn’t supposed to be playing a drinking game with him. Dean’s head is a little fuzzy, feels kind of bloated… but he knows that isn’t possible. But, his body is still tense. He feels wound so tight that he might snap and spiral out of control. He tries to bury that feeling down.

“Never have I ever… had sex in public.” A girl says, and most of circle starts complaining as they have to take a shot. Next turn was the kid sitting beside her. Dean doesn’t know hardly any of these people’s names. Most of them don’t even look familiar.

“Never have I ever… drank alcohol” The guy declares but when he gets a few accusations of ‘bullshit’ he changes his statement. “Ok, ok. Never have I ever… supermanned a girl.” Only one guy has to drink, and that causes a lot of laughter and a few questions about the experience.

“Never have I ever had a threesome.” This curly redhaired girl states without hesitation, and gives Sam a cheeky smile. And Dean notices how Sam plays into it. She’s been flirting with him all night and Dean isn’t sure how he feels about that. A few people have to drink, including his brother. Dean silently freaks out. When the hell did that happen? Oh my God, Sam’s a freak! He really doesn’t need to be playing this game. It’s Dean’s turn. Caleb nudges him encouragingly.

“Uh. Never have I ever. Um.” He doesn’t know what to say. The list is infinite. “I’ve never had sex in a car.” It’s true. They don’t have to know he’s never had sex anywhere. Pretty much everyone in the circle has to drink. They seem aggravated at the easy target question. Sam eyes Dean with surprise for a second, as if he wanted to call it as bullshit. He apparently decided to let it go, before he too had to take a shot. Now it’s Sam’s turn and Dean braces himself.

“I have never walked in on my parents.” Sam grins and a few people complain loudly about how that was gross, but three of them have to take a shot. Dean’s breath caught in his throat. Seriously? That’s all that Sam could come up with? He’s probably never walked in on his parents because his mother is dead, and his dad is always gone, hunting demons and vampires. Dean smacks his bottle down a little harder than he’d planned. He has to go. Caleb looks up at him with a question on his face. “Be back.” Dean mutters at him.

Dean scurries through the drunken crowd and goes out the front door. He runs his hands up through his short hair. He ignores the people littering the porch, most of them are at the pass out point of inebriation. He walks to the end of the sidewalk and takes a deep breath of the cool night air. He shakes his head hoping this night will start to make sense. It doesn’t. Dean considers calling John. He could tell him that Sammy is at a party, that he’s drinking, and that he lied earlier. He knows it’d be a low blow, but at least it’d get him out of here. Dean decides against it. He basically raised Sam, he needed to be the one to deal with this. He’s pacing the yard, trying to figure out how he’s going to get through this night. And speaking of being confused, what in the world is going on with him and this Caleb kid. Dean doesn’t know him. Not that that’s really the issue. He thinks the issue is that the kid is a boy. A guy. He has a dick. Presumably. And yet Dean was closer to fucking him than he’d ever been with a girl. Dean hears the front door again but before he can turn to see who it is, Sam is in his face.

“What happened in there?” Sam asks him, sounding like he doesn’t really care. Dean’s drank too much, his mind is too muddled. He can’t lie right now. He can’t think, and he doesn’t want to fight.

“Just needed some air, Sam.” Dean doesn’t want to talk.

“You don’t like the game?” He asks. Dean laughs a little to himself.

“Hell no, I don’t like the game. But that’s not why I’m” Dean stopped talking.

“Why you’re what?” Sam presses, and his brother turns his back to him.

“Just go back inside.” Dean tells him, and Sam just gets closer.

“Not until you tell me what’s up.”

Dean spins around, he’s had it.

“What’s wrong is I don’t know who the hell you are! I come here, thinking you’re at school being a geek. Like you always are. And, and, I find you in there. In there fucking- fucking some girl you just met! And I… I” Dean stops. He starts walking away from Sam, headed for his car.

“And you what, Dean? You got jealous?” Sam yells after him and Dean turns back to face him.

“Are you listening to me, you moron? No I’m not jealous. I’m pissed because you’ve been hiding this, this secret life from me!”

“I think you are jealous. ‘Cause from where I’m standing it doesn’t look like you’ve ever even gotten laid. And I haven’t even b” Sam stops mid sentence and stares at Dean. “Oh my God” He says quietly. Dean looks away. “You really are a virgin aren’t you? And here I was thinking that _you_ were the player.” Dean acts astounded. But, he stutters.

“No I’m not a damn virgin. Are you serious, I mean, look at me!” Dean motions at himself in an arrogant way that only Dean could make look adorable. Sam just stares at him, and he isn’t convinced. So Dean continues. “But that isn’t the point anyway. When did you become a whore? And, why haven’t you told me about any of this?” Sam takes a second to think. His tone changes to being open instead of feisty.

“Dean, you have secrets too. You still know me… you just… you just don’t know _everything_ about me.”

“What do you mean, I have secrets too?” Dean’s still on guard.

“Caleb? What’s going on there?” Sam asks like he actually wants to know. He isn’t mocking. Dean still acts dumbfounded.

“Who’s Caleb?”

“Oh really? You don’t even know who you were sucking face with?” Sam can’t help the sarcasm.

“I wasn’t _sucking_ face!”

“But you know who I’m talking about now? The guy who’s in there waiting for you, like a lost love bird.” Sam keeps pushing. But Dean doesn’t respond. He decides it’s time to leave again. He starts for his car when he feels Sam get a grip of his leather jacket. Dean spins around, his anger exploding.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” Dean yells and points a finger into his brother’s chest. Sam puts his hands up in surrender and starts taking steps backwards.

“Fine. You want to drive home drunk and get yourself killed? Be my guest.” With that Dean has a hand on his car door.

“But don’t ever ask me to tell you about how I like dick too.” Sam turns to go back inside, but he’s definitely got Dean’s attention. Dean yells over the metal roof of the car.

“What did you just say to me?” Sam turns back and walks over to Dean.

“You heard me.”

Dean closes the rest of the distance. “Are you just trying to distract me so I won’t leave?” He asks Sam.

“It’s your choice Dean. Stay or go.”

“If I stay will you elaborate?” Dean isn’t mad anymore, he’s just in shock. How many more secrets does Sam have?

“There’s not much to elaborate on. It’s just a fact. I thought you might find it comforting since you honestly can’t seem to figure out what’s happening with Caleb.” Dean mulls that over in his mind. He locks eyes with Sam for a few seconds. Then for some reason they trail down his little brother’s body. He’s immediately reminded of the naked masterpiece he’d witnessed earlier. He has to look away.

“Fine.” Dean shuts his door but doesn’t move.

“You’re staying?” Sam asks.

“Apparently.” Dean huffs.

“Good. I’m goin’ back inside. You should probably chill out though, people are thinking you’re crazy.” Sam turns back and disappears inside the gigantic house.

 

Hmmph Dean crosses his arms. He’ll show them crazy. He reconsiders just going home but in all reality he knows he shouldn’t be behind a wheel of any sort. Let alone the wheel of his beautiful baby. Dean wonders if he should try to sort that conversation out but he just doesn’t have the energy. After a few minutes of sitting alone on the front porch he musters the will to go back inside. He finds Caleb and ignores the way the kid’s face lights up. He asks if he knows where Sam went, but no one seems to know. Dean searches through the drunkards lining the couches, and the huddle around a keg in the kitchen. Sam doesn’t seem anywhere to be found. He asks a random girl if she’d seen Sam and she pointed to a door. It was off of the dining room, not down a hall so Dean assumed it’d be safe to go check. He opens the door to discover that he was wrong. It wasn’t safe to check. He also discovers that the handsy red head who’d been flirting with Sam, got her wish. She was propped against the headboard of the bed. Her top still on but skirt hiked up to reveal no panties. More importantly he sees his little brothers face buried between her legs, and the girls fingers are knotted into his hair. Sam’s back is to Dean, but the girl sees him immediately. He knows he should leave. He knows he should freak out but he doesn’t. He can’t seem to move at all. His eyes are drawn to Sammy. The muscles rippling in his back as he props the girl’s ass closer to his face. He watches his little brother’s hips squirming on the bed, searching for friction. He watches and he’s hypnotized. Sam really has grown up to be gorgeous. Dean knows his brother isn’t technically an adult, but he’s larger than most that he knows. He’s still ogling Sam’s body when the girl interrupts his thoughts.

“You wanna join?” She asks and brings her bottom lip into her mouth. Dean doesn’t answer but he doesn’t move. “Dean?” She says his name. He wonders how she knows it. Then he waits for Sam to say something. He waits for him to break away from the girl, or to shoot down her offer. But he doesn’t. If anything Sam simply scoots further to the middle of the bed, making room on the edge for Dean.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Dean doesn’t know what to do. A million things pop into his mind simultaneously. _Wrongwrongwrong_ , he’ll _hate_ me, _wrong_ , _leave now_ , what would _Dad_ say, _wrongwrongwron_ g. But, the millionth thought that's in his head, the loudest one, the only one that mattered: _Sammy_. Dean knows that he needs to channel that anger he felt earlier. He needs to save his brother from this sex-crazed thing that he’s become. He knows what he should do. But, when he doesn’t hear the protest from Sam that he’s been waiting for, he finds that his feet start carrying him towards the bed. _Traitors_. He silently wonders what the hell is happening as he sits slowly on the edge of the bed. He is met with a mischievous giddy smirk from the girl. Sam sits up from the girl and doesn’t give much acknowledgement to Dean. He looks at the girl, almost with a bored expression.

“How do you want to do this?” Sam asks the girl using the same tone that he’d use to ask her to pass the salt. It’s like he’s got a job to do and he’s on autopilot to get it done. The emptiness in Sam’s eyes takes Dean by surprise. The _save Sam_ mantra reappears in his mind. This is supposed to be for fun, why would Sam think of this as a burden.

“Hmm” She pretends to ponder. She puts a finger to her chin and tilts her head. She catches Dean’s attention for the first time, he realizes the girl probably thinks she’s being cute. Neither Winchester seem to be amused.

“I think… I want your tasty cock in my mouth.” She teases her hand over Dean’s thigh indicating she’s talking to him, although he finds her 'tasty' adjective a turn off. She teases her fingers towards his zipper. She moves her hand and turns to Sam.

“And I want you to take me from behind.” Sam answers her by pulling at her knees. He pulls her down and flips her over in a swift motion. Before the girl can take a breath Sam is pushing himself into her. Dean realizes his attention is stuck on his brother when he feels the girl pulling him towards her face.

“Honey, you’ll probably enjoy this more if you’d take those blue jeans off.” She purrs at him, interrupting his thoughts of Sam.

“Oh.” He fumbles to stand and he tries to get into the moment. Dean swears he sees a smirk on his brother’s face despite being busy with the girl beneath him. His pants hit the floor and he’s back on the bed. The girl uses her hands to guide him to the canvas covered headboard. He leans back and tries not to think. But he can’t help that his eyes go to Sam for security, who isn’t paying attention to him now. The girl pulls down Dean’s boxers and immediately goes to work. No teasing required. By instinct he jumps a little when the girl’s cold hand grabs at his dick, he’s uncomfortable and he’s pretty sure this is awkward, but no one else seems to think so.

She takes his balls in her mouth and gives them a toothy suck. Dean wonders if that’s normal. His gaze goes back to Sam. He’s made a rhythm now. He’s moving slow but if earlier was any indication, that isn’t gonna last long. Dean’s sure he’ll be pounding her through the wall soon. He tries to focus on the girl. He looks down at her. Her red curls are falling on his thighs, kind of tickling. He picks it up like he’s going to put it in a ponytail, but he just holds it. The girl swirls a sloppy tongue around his head then pulls off enough to say, “That’s right, baby, fuck my throat.” She bobs back down, and Dean freaks out a little bit. _What?_ That isn’t what he was doing… he just didn’t want the hair on him. He notices that Sam is watching him now. A dark heat has replaced his previously empty eyes and Dean feels a fullness flutter deep inside him. Sam starts fucking deeper into the girl, causing her to take more of Dean in her mouth. Dean whimpers a little when he feels the head of his dick crash into the back of her throat. She swallows at him, and he swears he’s actually past her tonsils. Despite his chaotic thoughts, it actually feels pretty alright. Not fantastic, he doesn’t know what the big deal is. But it’s still not bad.

He gazes back up to Sam, wondering if that’s ok. Is it weird? Really what about this isn’t though? The girl ( _or watching what Sam is doing to the girl_ ) has Dean fully hard now, and she uses a flat tongue to swipe him from his balls to his slit. She prods at it a bit with her tongue before she puts him back into her mouth. She hums around him and that warrants a moan from Dean. He decides it feels better than he’d originally thought. The girl starts using a hand to add pressure to his shaft. She’s pumping him and twisting as Sam pounds into her. Dean’s attention goes back to Sam. He’s pulling the girls ass apart so he can get deeper. He throws in a random swivel of his hips, and Dean wonders what that would feel like. The alcohol has taken a toll on Sam, he can tell. His brother is getting impatient with himself, and the girl. He’s wanting to come. He’s wanting it bad. Dean watches a drop of sweat fall from the tip of a strand of Sam’s bangs. It escapes from the hair to his cheek. He watches its’ journey continue down to his collar bone. It pools there, and Dean imagines licking it off. At that thought he looks back up to his brother’s face. He’s still watching him too. Sam gives her a hard thrust and she moans around Dean’s length. Sam isn’t breaking eye contact this time, he’s letting himself stare into Dean. And, Dean is either too stupid or too turned on to look away.

“Mmm, fuck me, Sam. Fuck me harder.” She commands him and Dean wishes she’d shut up. Sam listened well though. The girl sucks him down again, and rolls his balls with a free hand. Dean can feel himself getting close too. Sam plunges the hardest yet into his slut, and the sensation of his cock swelling in her esophagus mixed with the fuck blown eyes that Sam’s giving him, sends him over the edge. He feels like he probably should’ve warned the girl but she doesn’t seem to mind. She spits his come into the floor and uses her hand to work him down. Dean briefly thinks to swat her hand away, he doesn’t want her touching him anymore. He decides to just deal with it, so he can give Sam his full attention. It only takes Sam a few more thrusts until he’s coming too.

Dean watches his body stiffen, his arms shake a little. Sam finally breaks eye contact when he puts his head back and rocks his hips forward the final time. He pauses for a second and drops his hands from the girl’s hips. After the beat he pulls out and collapses onto the bed. Without giving the girl another thought. He doesn’t speak to the chick, or to Dean. The girl is mumbling some crap about how hot they are, and how they’ll have to do this again. She rolls off of the bed and says she’ll be back. Dean silently hopes she won’t be.

He looks over at Sam who has simply pulled the bedspread up over himself and turned on his side. Apparently going to sleep. It has to be at least 3 in the morning. Dean wonders what he’s supposed to do now. He gets up and puts his jeans back on. He stares at the door and hears how loud the house still is. He really doesn’t want to go back out there. He turns back to the bed and looks at the empty side next to Sam. Who is still naked. Dean sits down and stares at the ceiling, then at his feet. He wonders if he should just go home. He realizes that he’s just waiting for Sam to tell him to get out of the bed. He doesn’t. Dean lays back and pulls the cover over him too. He allows himself a quick glance at Sam then he takes a deep breath.

“You want me to sleep somewhere else?” He asks Sam, hoping he hasn’t passed out yet.

“You’re fine.” Sam mumbled and nuzzled his face into the pillow. A small firework of relief goes off inside Dean and he realizes then that for some reason he’d really been hoping that Sam wouldn't reject him.

Dean hears Sam’s breathing change and within minutes he’s asleep. Dean turns on his side and looks at the back of Sam’s hair. It really is a mess.

He looks at this boy, his little brother. He wonders how they ended up here. How did he and Sam become strangers in the span of a night? When he’d come to the party earlier Sam was just his little bro, a dork, but still his best friend. Now, at 3 am on the same Saturday night he’s had his first sexual experience. A threesome, with his brother. He looks at the boy who was his best friend a few hours ago, and he doesn’t have a clue who this person is. He wonders how Sam became this without him knowing? More than that, Dean doesn’t know why he really just wants to wrap his arms around him.

He knows he shouldn’t, he knows it’s weird. But it’s like his arm isn’t his own. He very slowly raises a hand in the air, just above Sam’s waist. He feels the heat coming off of his sleeping brother. He wants curl up against him. This night has been crazy and maybe that familiarity will be a comfort. Dean wonders how mad Sam would be if he woke up coddled by Dean. Given everything that’s happened tonight he figures he doesn’t have much dignity left to lose. He puts his arm down, around Sam’s stomach. Every fraction of movement steady and measured. So not to wake him. He scoots closer and with the weight of a feather lays his cheek against Sam’s shoulder blade. He feels his own breathing slow, and his heart isn’t pounding as loud. He feels a little better. As he starts drifting to sleep he feels a hand come down on top of his. It wakes Dean up and his heart stops for a minute. He waits for Sam to say something, to push him away, or do anything. But all he does is squeeze Dean’s grip tighter around himself and nudges back deeper into his brother’s embrace. He wonders if Sam is still asleep, but before he can come to any conclusions the black consumes him.

 

Dean wakes up with a marching band in his head. Worse than that he feels like he licked porcupine, his throat is so dry it hurts. He turns onto his back and opens his eyes. When the bright light comes intruding in he shuts them back. He rolls again and stretches an arm out across the bed, like he’s searching for something. He feels the wrinkled loose sheet and something is definitely missing. He opens his eyes again and notices the sheets have changed colors. His are gray, these are red. He props up on an elbow and examines the room through squinted eyes. Nothing looks familiar. The room is trashed though. Dean lays back onto the bed and searches his memory.


	4. Chapter 4

He instantly regrets the action when everything comes rushing back. Kissing Caleb, fighting with Sam. Then the slutty red head, and oh God, he’d thought Sam was hot! Jesus, how sick can a person be? As if that wasn’t enough… the cuddling. No wonder Sam left already. Dean wants to sink into the mattress. Just become part of the threads. He’d feel better if he could just disappear. He’s sure Sam would prefer it that way too. Unfortunately the need to piss won over all of those other feelings. Dean curses human bodily functions and as he gets up he notices the dried white smears in the carpet by the bed. He’ll just have to forget how that got there.

 

Dean walked in the front door to find Sam bathed and bright eyed sitting on the couch. Sam turned to face him when he’d heard the front door open.

“Hey Dean.” He greets him cheerfully. Like everything is normal. Dean just grunts in response. Sam seems to shrug off the weirdness and goes back to watching TV. Dean creeps past the living room and into the bath. He strips out of yesterday’s clothes and turns on the hottest water this crappy little house can muster.

He gets in and closes his eyes under the spray. He runs his hands through his hair and down his body as he soaks up the warmth. Trying to wash away last night. Without his permission an image of Sam fills his mind. Sam naked and watching him as he lost himself into a strange girl. Sam’s bloodshot lust filled eyes as he stared at Dean getting blown. He remembers the way the girls throat felt around his length, more vividly he remembers the sounds that Sam was making in time with his. The heat that he’d felt in the stare of his brother’s eyes, the pressure that built in his belly. Sam’s sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, even when he’d thrown his head back while he came. Dean’s eyes snapped open.

That’s enough of that shit. Sam was his brother. His little brother. He can’t be thinking about him like this. It’s wrong. Wrong doesn’t even begin to cover it. But, Dean’s dick doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo. He stares at his erection and tries to will it away. It doesn’t work and it’s getting uncomfortable. He knows he can’t go back in the living room like this.

Dean closes his eyes again and forces himself to think about Caleb. He runs his hand down his stomach and plays his fingertips over his length . He wants to make this quick. He immediately squeezes and pulls to the head without releasing pressure. He pictures Caleb’s wavy chestnut hair and imagines grabbing him by it, pulling him closer. It was just like Sam’s. He remembers exploring the waves in Sam’s hair with his eyes last night before sleep. He was looking at the back of Sam’s hair wishing he could run his hand through it. He wanted to brush it out of Sam’s face and lean over him to plant a kiss on his sweaty cheek. He remembers the feel of his hand against Sam’s stomach and he half wishes he’d let it wander lower. Dean uses his hips to push up into his fist. He rested his forehead against his forearm on the shower wall. He quickened his stroke. He remembers the glimmer in Caleb’s hazel eyes when he’d smile. His eyes were a lot like Sam’s but not quite as unique. Not as soulful. Not as beautiful. Dean started putting a twist in his wrist to change up the pattern. He took his other hand off of the shower wall and brought them down to his balls. He traced the line in the middle of them and gave a squeeze as he started shooting his release onto his fist and onto the shower wall. He rolls his balls in his palm and runs his other hand over his body. He rinses himself and tries to ignore the hateful things his conscience wants to tell him. Dean argues with his conscience, he shouldn’t feel guilty because he got off thinking about Caleb, not Sam.

That brings Sam back to the forefront of his mind. He still doesn’t understand this sudden desire to be close to his brother, like yesterday with subconsciously choosing to sit by him in the living room. Dean doesn’t know what’s happening to him. His little brother is the only thing he can think about. He’s always put Sam before himself. It’s always been make sure _Sam_ is happy. Make sure _Sam_ ’s been fed, and _Sam_ has to be safe. Raise _Sam_. But, now it’s different. Now it’s, look at _Sam_ ’s beautiful eyes, _Sam_ ’s kissable mouth, when did _Sam_ get abs, and I wonder what _Sam_ tastes like. It’s more than a desire, it’s like a need. He needs to feel Sam next to him. He just needs _Sam_. Dean’s cock twitches taking his attention back from Sam. How is that even fucking possible? He’s hard again, he hasn’t dealt with this shit since he was thirteen.

When Dean composes himself and remerges in the living room, John is standing there with a duffle bag.

“You leaving?” He asks his dad.

“Fuck yeah…” He groans like he doesn’t want to. “You know that witch that wasn’t a witch?”

“Last week?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, that one. Turns out we got had.” His dad elaborates. Dean stares at him confused.

“So you’re sayin’ she was a witch?” Dean feels the anger swell in him. How could they have believed that whore!

“Yep. Rufus called, said she’s been killin’ people with some kind of lust spells or some shit. I don’t know. But, I gotta’ go check it out.” John puts on his baseball cap and picks up his bags.

“Lust spells?” Dean chokes out. John turns back to him.

“Something like that. I think I’ll just gank the bitch for gettin’ one over on us, I don’t really care what she’s doin’.” John opens the door.

“Sammy, be good. And, you need to actually practice your sparring no more lyin’ about it. Dean… keep your brother alive for me, will ya?” His dad instructs.

Dean swallows hard. “Sure thing.” He mumbles.

“Excuse me?” John says with no real anger behind it. Dean coughs his voice clear.

“I will, Sir.”

“Ok. See you boys in a few days.” The door closed behind John, and Dean was stuck staring at Sam.

“What?” He asks concerned after a few seconds of a blank stare.

“What’s a lust spell?” He asks Sam.

“What?” Sam’s confusion increases.

“Just tell me what it is!” Dean snaps.

“They’re all different I think. Pretty much just what it sounds like though.” Sam tells him but still not understanding the point.

“Can they kill somebody?” Dean’s breathing sped up.

“Dad said that she’d been using them to kill people. Dean, what’s wrong?” Sam got off of the couch and walked over to face Dean. He looked him over then brought a hand to Dean’s face. He held it there and Dean could feel himself tilting into it. The warmth. The strength and comfort in his brother’s touch. It was unreal.

“You’re sweating, Dean, what’s wrong?” Sam asks him, his voice thick with worry, and that snaps Dean out of whatever he was feeling. He smacks his brother’s hand away, and Sam looks like a toddler that’s been shunned. Completely dejected.

“I don’t need you to take care of me!” Dean snaps at him, and Sam backs away a few steps.

“I never said you did.” Sam sits back down and picks up the TV remote. Dean knows that Sam isn’t interested in the TV, he just doesn’t know what else to do. So, Dean walks over to sit beside him. He crosses his arms and doesn’t say a word, but Sam gives him a side eye. Then he looks to the other two chairs in the living room, and at the empty opposite end of the couch. He knows it’s probably a pressing issue as to why he feels the need to sit beside Sam, but neither of them choose to discuss it.

“Sorry.” Dean mumbles for snapping at him. Sam puts a hand on Dean’s knee. He probably doesn’t mean anything by it.

“It’s ok.” Sam removes his hand and focuses back on the television. Dean wonders why Sam removed his hand so fast. Was he mad? Was he creeped out about last night?

Dean subconsciously scoots a little closer to Sam. Who still doesn’t seem to acknowledge the weirdness. But, Sam chooses that moment to raise his arm to the back of the couch. Leaving a spot at his side, that’s calling Dean’s name. Dean looks at Sam’s side and then at his face. His emotions seemed guarded. But, pretty much in a good mood. Dean doesn’t know why, he doesn’t really think about it. He closes the distance between him and his brother.

He fits perfectly. His neck falls at Sam’s arm, like it’s a cut out specifically designed for this reason. His shoulder rests against Sam’s inviting side, and Dean relaxes into him. He can feel Sam crane his neck to look at the new positon, but he doesn’t say a word. Dean doesn’t know how to feel about that. Sam brought his hand down onto Dean’s shoulder and rubs at it with an absent mind. Dean can’t help but feel his heart swell. It’s like he was designed to fit here. Nothing can matter when he’s here, like this with Sam. Dean turns to look at Sam’s face. The light from the TV flickers off of it. Giving Sam’s hazel eyes a tint of blue. He wants a better view of them. So, Dean brings his right hand up to push some of the hair back from his brother’s face, and they both freeze. Sam watches him like he’s waiting for something to happen. Dean’s heart drops as he hops out his favorite spot, and leaps away from Sam.

“What?” Sam gets up to follow him. But he doesn’t have to walk far because Dean comes back at him. And he comes back pissed with an off the wall argument.

“Why are you acting like this? Is it because you’re a fucking sex machine, and pretending to care is your second nature?” Dean snaps at him, his voice suddenly rough. He sees the pain flash in Sam’s eyes. The boy’s shoulders lower noticeably at the rejection.

“I’m not _pretending_ to care, Dean. How can you even say that?” Hurt is the only thing that Dean can hear in his brother’s voice. But he can’t seem to stop himself.

“I don’t know, _Sammy, lil’ brother._ ” Dean layers on the sarcasm. “Maybe since everything else about you is fake!”

“I’m not fake, Dean! You found out that I’ve had sex, big deal! You fuck a new bitch every other day, and you don’t see me freaking out or calling you a liar. You’re the one in the wrong here, not me!” Sam raises his voice at his brother.

“Oh trust me, I know I’m _wrong_.” Dean says with a tone full of innuendo, but also surrender. Sam catches it.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He questions.

“I don’t know, Sam, I don’t know anything.” Dean says more to himself than to Sam. He starts towards the front door but Sam appears between him and it.

“Tell me what’s wrong with you, now.” His little brother doesn’t usually give two shits about being right, or being best, or anything else. Simply because Sam doesn’t typically care what anyone’s opinion of him is. Therefore, he doesn’t usually care enough to be trying to give orders. Because he hasn’t made it a secret of his distaste for this family, and its ways. He does what he’s told because he doesn’t care enough to waste the energy on arguing. But, right now, Sam is giving Dean an order. And although Dean would love to put him in his place, because his baby brother can’t boss him around, he decides against it because this Sam is fucking intimidating.

And, since he’s putting himself up for a fight against Dean, it means he cares.

“What happened last night?” Dean asks sounding more pleading than he’d intended. He looks at the dingy carpet instead of his brother.

“With me being there?” Sam asks for clarification.

“No, with us.” Dean is speaking quietly, he feels small.

“We had sex… with the same girl.” Sam states like he’s omitting something.

“That was it?”

“Well, yeah… what else did you think there was?” He asks him.

Dean can feel himself getting pissed off again. He thinks again that maybe its pain he’s feeling. Disguised as anger. He feels a sharp twinge in his chest.

“Ok, so last night was completely normal. I’ll pretend I believe that. But, what was that on the couch, five minutes ago?” He prys at Sam for acknowledgement. He needs something from him. Anything. But, Sam looks away. And gives him nothing.

“Come on, Sam! I’m dyin’ here!” Dean pleads but the phrase hits him hard. It was just supposed to be an expression, but he realizes that maybe it isn’t. Sam seems to realize it too.

“Why were you asking about the spells?” Sam starts grasping at pieces to put together.

“I asked you a question first.” Dean retorts childishly. He stares into Sam’s waiting and irritated eyes. His cheeks have grown pink with frustration, and somehow Dean finds that it makes him more attractive. Then he wonders as an afterthought, how hot hell is going to be.

“No I asked you earlier and you didn’t answer.” Sam comes back at him.

“Are we really doing this right now?” Dean asks.

“You started it.” Sam tells him. They glare at each other and after a second of dead silence they both laugh. The tension rolls out a little bit.

“Alright, promise me that you won’t hate me.” Dean asks of him like he’s fully surrendering, and his heart starts pounding in his ears.

“Ok.”

“No, promise me Sam. For real. It’s bad and you’re going to want to hate me. And you will if you’re any form of sane, but I’m asking you to just please, don’t.” Dean is begging him. Sam puts his hands at Dean’s waist. He rests them on his hips and barely encourages Dean closer.

“I couldn’t hate you, Dean. Never.” He speaks softly. Dean looks down at his brothers hands, and wonders where the hell that came from. He thinks about backing out of them but he doesn’t.

“Look, Sam. Last night… maybe even before then, I’m not sure… But I started having these thoughts, like maybe… that you weren’t my brother.” Dean tells him and Sam pulls his hands away looking hurt again. Dean secretly pines at the loss of contact.

“You don’t want me to be your brother?” Sam’s brows pull together in pain, and Dean can’t have that. He puts a hand on Sam’s jaw. They’re staring at each other and Dean uses his thumb to brush over his brothers cheek.

“No Sammy that’s not it. I love that you’re my brother. But, I think I love you more than I should love a brother… in a different way I mean.” Dean’s heart dropped through his stomach and he feels like vomiting. He doesn’t know if he’s ever felt more fear in his life. And for the life he’s had that’s saying something. The next second lasts an eternity.

Sam looks at him through a few strands of his long hair. He looks more _into_ him, than _at_ him. Before Dean knows what’s happening Sam’s mouth crashed into his, and Dean opened pliantly at his brother’s tongue slipping across his lips.

Dean opened for Sam to come in. To explore his mouth, to let him taste. He couldn’t fight it. Fighting was only for strong people, and Dean wasn’t. He feels like Sammy is the only good thing he has in this life, and now he’s corrupting that too. But, he’s selfish. And, he wants this. No, he needs this. It’s like he’s drawn to him. His thoughts, his mind, his body, everything about Dean felt like it belonged with Sam. And, he’s being pulled to him like a magnet. He felt his arms tighten at Sam’s waist and one of his hands slip under the back of his little brother jeans.

Sam didn’t get a chance to think it over before he plowed into Dean’s face. He just knew he was hurting. He’d thought Dean didn’t want to be his brother anymore. He had felt shattered, and then he heard such beautiful words come out of Dean’s mouth, and he couldn’t hold back. The words were like glue, putting him back together. Sam hated his life. He hated the motel rooms, moving every other week. He hated the fighting and the blood. Sam hated his dad for being a drill sergeant instead of a father. He resented his dad for forcing this life on himself and on Dean. He hated how his Dad uses Dean and then takes him for granted. But, the only good thing that he’d ever had, was Dean. His brother was the only reason that he’d ever choose to wake up another morning.

When Sam kissed Dean, all he was thinking about was how amazing it felt to hear those words. That maybe Dean was feeling the same way that Sam had for years.

But, as he focuses on the taste of Dean on his tongue, of the feel of Dean in his arms, he has a nagging thought. That he should pull away. That maybe for Dean, this is only because of a curse.

A rattle of the front door breaks them out of their stupor. As the front door came open, Dean’s strong hands landed at Sam’s shoulder’s shoving him. Sam was thrown backwards, lost his balance and came crashing down painfully into the end table. It slid out from under Sam, sending him to the floor and landing in front of their dad’s feet.


	5. Chapter 5

Before his feet were even in the house they hear, “What in God’s name is wrong with you, boy?” John barks at Dean, he is instantly furious as he watches Sam’s awkward land.

“I haven’t been out the door ten minutes and I come back to this shit?” He’s pissed. He holds a hand out to Sam, an offer to help him up. Sam looks at it for a second with a blank mind. He realizes that John is waiting. He shifts.

“I’ve got it.” Sam gets to his feet without accepting his father’s help, and can’t bring himself to look at Dean. He can’t comprehend what just happened.

“What, cat got your tongue? I asked you a question, what the hell is wrong with you?” John was yelling at Dean again.

Dean was just standing there, stone still. His wide eyes shooting between Sam and his father. He hadn’t meant to be so rough with Sam. He’d panicked and snapped back into reality. He was just scared. I mean, if their Dad had come in a fraction of a second earlier, they’d both be bleeding out from a gunshot wound right now. He didn’t know where to begin. Apologizing to Sam, explaining to his dad? He couldn’t do the second one, ‘cuz he sure as hell didn’t understand anything let alone be able to explain it. He was speechless.

Dean’s attention was drawn to the movement of Sam’s hand at his hip. He bent forward a little in pain, but dared not complain. He’d actually hurt his brother… and probably a whole lot deeper than just physically. Dean looked at the anguish in his brother’s otherwise blank expression, Sam wouldn’t even look at him. He as probably too disgusted. All of Dean’s feelings, the panic, the confusion, regret, the lust… that brief second that he’d actually felt hope… it all settled into a pit at the bottom of Dean’s stomach. The pit was labeled: Reason’s why I’m not good enough.

“Ah… I’m. I’m sorry” He breathes out at Sam, barely audible. “I’m just…” He shakes his head, “I’m so sorry.” Dean tries to bolt past John, head down out the front door. A hard twist of his arm snaps him back inside the room.

“I expect an explanation from you. You’re supposed to take care of your brother Dean. Not beat his ass! Now you better get your shit together or you’re gonna be sent to Bobby’s, seeing how I can’t trust you not to hurt Sam while I’m gone.”

Dean adjusts his shoulder from the painful snap from John. “No… I wouldn’t hurt Sam, Dad. You know that. You can’t send me off.” He can’t deal with this, not after that. His mind just isn’t functioning enough to be able to put on his good little soldier face.

“What do you mean you wouldn’t hurt him? What the fuck do you call what I just walked into? Have you gone straight up stupid boy?” John was closing in on Dean.

“Dad, it’s ok.” Sam suddenly finds his voice. Not that anyone listened to it.

“You can’t stand there and act like I’m a danger to Sam. _I_  love Sam,  _I_   take care of him. _I_   always have and _I_  always will. Even though that damn sure isn’t in **_my_** job description as his _brother_.” Dean was equally furious.

“What are you trying to say, you little shit!”

“Look whose gone stupid now?” Dean spat out, and started for the front door again.

Sam could see the blind rage in his father’s eyes. If he got to Dean, if he caught Dean, there’d be no stopping him.

John was in stride after him, murderous vengeance in his eyes when Sam appeared in front of the man.

“Dad stop!”

John ignored him with a dodge. Sam was faster. He got in John’s path again.

“I said stop, damnit!”

John stopped. Looked at Sam for a long second, with disbelief in his expression. Sam used the opportunity to speak.

“I deserved it. I was running my mouth and he warned me to stop. I didn’t. It’s ok dad, I deserved it.” Sam’s tone had changed. “I’m sorry I cussed at you. It was disrespectful. But, you were going to hurt Dean.”

John looked bewildered. He seemed to have given up his flight for Dean. He stood there for a long minute and shook his head clear.

“I don’t have time for this shit.” John disappeared into the kitchen and come back with his journal in hand. He’d forgotten it. Sam was left alone and still in shock, as their dad drove away.

He wondered where Dean had went, he debated going after him. But, with all that just happened he doubted that Dean would want to see him again. He’d enjoyed the kiss hadn’t he? It seemed like he’d liked it. Maybe Sam had been too disillusioned with what he was feeling, and hadn’t noticed Dean’s distaste. Sam thought back to John. Their dad’s temper was no secret but he’d looked like he was truly murderous. Sam really hadn’t even thought it was that big of a deal. Their dad has seen them fight before, and never thought much of it. _He wondered what was so bad about this time_. Maybe it was just because Dean wasn’t kissing John’s ass the way he’d always done. He’d pulled a Sammy and demonstrated some defiance.

Sam rubbed a hand over his throbbing hip. It really did hurt. The corner of the table had rammed into the soft part in the curve. He felt a bruise coming on already.

He didn’t know what else to do so he went into the kitchen and ran some dishwater. He figured he needed to help Dean out a little bit. He thought about how much Dean was sure to hate him. He’d only told Sam about the spell because he’d been scared. He was freaked out by the idea of loving his brother, not because he’d wanted to act on it. How could Sam have been so stupid? His heart sank into his chest, swelling with guilt. How could he have kissed his brother? He’d known Dean could never feel the same. He wasn’t a freak like Sam. Dean had spent his life taking care of him. Feeding him, protecting him, trying to make him happy, he’d given up so much of his own life to watch over Sam, and this is how he’s repaid? Sam felt nauseous.

After the dishes he collapsed onto his bed. He just needed to escape a little while. He closed his eyes and assumed that sleep wouldn’t come, but it did.

When Sam closed his eyes he was back in the bed that he’d slept in last night. He’d just fucked some girl and allowed himself a lot more than usual, guilty pleasure of fantasizing about Dean. He’d laid back and pulled the covers over himself, secretly hating that he’d wished the girl hadn’t been there it all. He wished in some way that somehow it could’ve been just him and Dean. He was pretending to be asleep when he heard Dean ask his permission to lay with him. Sam thought, _please_ , and _you better not leave me_. It came out as, “ _you’re fine_.” But at least Dean stayed. When he truly was on the brink of sleep he’d felt Dean’s arms wrap around him. He wondered if he was dreaming, and he wasn’t sure. So he thought what the hell, and squeezed Dean’s grip tighter around his waist. He leaned back into Dean’s strong chest and wished he could just become a part of him.

He felt Dean’s fingers tickle below his belly button. He was drawing patterns with his fingertips. Writing secrets into his skin. Sam tried to focus, follow the trails with his mind. He wanted to know what Dean was writing. He couldn’t decipher it, but the sensation had drawn the attention of an area a little lower. He could feel the pulse deepening in his dick and he had to do something about it. Without warning he flipped over and came face to face with Dean. His eyes were closed like he was sleeping but Sam knew better. He’d probably just gotten nervous. He put a timid hand on Dean’s shoulder and rubbed down to his wrist. Sam lightly gripped it and placed it onto his lower hip, and Dean didn’t budge. He looked at Dean’s face in the dark blue of the night, and really took it in. He wanted this in his mind forever.

Sam wrapped his arm around to the small of Dean’s back, letting his erection sit in the crease of his brother’s knees. Experimentally he moved his hips against the hard line and was rewarded with a tingling euphoric sensation. He moved a little bit faster, and tightened his hold around Dean’s waist. His brother’s eyes were still closed but Sam could see a small flicker behind his eyelids.

Sam explored the crack of Dean’s ass timorously as he rocked his hard on between his thighs. Dean adjusted his head back some, pushing his chest forward and consequentially his ass back onto Sam’s hand. He took that as a sign and he started teasing at Dean’s hole. He let a finger breach past the puffy entrance, into the tight ring of muscle. Dean let out a quiet moan, and Sam started thrusting harder into his brother’s legs. His dick was hot, and his balls had drawn up. Sam put his face into Dean’s chest and took in the smell of his brother next to him. He used his other hand to swiftly pull Dean flush with his body. Forcing them together.

He put two fingers into Dean and swirled them in circles as the man rhythmically pushed back on them then rocked forward forcing Sam’s cock to slide farther into his legs. Sam could feel Dean’s dick leaking on his stomach as they were slotted together. Sam let his whole body lean on the next thrust to feel the thick smear slide against him. He used the leverage to pull Dean fiercer around his dick, then he’d shift his body up to give his brother some friction of his own. Dean showed his appreciation by throwing himself harder into Sam’s knuckles, and allowed himself some full on moans. The sounds they were making had them both losing control.

Sam shot white hot ecstasy all over both of their stomachs. He pulled Dean against him harder and used the leverage on his ass to slide him against their mixed cum. Sam wrapped a leg over Dean’s and pulled his fingers from his brother. The air was quiet and peaceful. Sam silently feared that it was only the calm before the storm. He was proved wrong when Dean finally opened his eyes. He was quiet. Scarily quiet. His wide eyes were sparkling in the dark room. He got a soft hold on Sam’s wrist and used it to guide his fingers to his mouth. Dean paused for what seemed like forever, just gazing at the fingers. The fingers that were inside him. Dean brought Sam’s middle and index fingers to his mouth and placed a chaste close mouthed kiss onto them. Sam watched. Admiring the beauty. Finally their lips were together, and the heat consumed them. The tastes of each other, and the utopia they were in became them.

Sam opened his eyes. He blinked away the confusion as he stared at the walls of his own bedroom. It was a dream. Well the part after Dean wrapping his arm around him was a dream. Fuck dreams.

He rolled over to look at the digital clock, it was 3:21 in the afternoon. Sam listened for any sounds, signs of Dean in the house and he heard none.

He thought about how it would be even remotely possible to make this shit up to his brother, and he couldn’t think of any. But, food wouldn’t be a bad start. Dean was always cooking for him, maybe it’d be nice to switch it up for a change. He decided he’d go to the store and get stuff to make real cheeseburgers. The kind where you make patties, not the ones in a box. He’d get hamburger meat, cheese slices, and some fries. Sam was pretty sure they had bread. He’d also have to get some pie. A lot of pie actually.

******************

 

Seven hours later a cold pile of cheeseburgers were sitting on the counter. Next to them, a bowl of fries, and some pie. An apple, a cherry, and a chocolate pie to be exact. They were no longer fresh, the plan was moot, and Sam was worried. Dean never stayed gone this long. Sam shrugged his hoodie over his shoulders, and locked the front door. He had to find Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everyone that's left Kudos or commented, it means a lot that I'm not the only one who cares about this story :) I'm thinking there's going to be 8 or 9 chapters. I just finished a rough draft of 7 and whewww.... let me tell ya, it's a big one. Until next time, you guys have a wonderful day!


	6. Chapter 6

"What are you doing?” Sam was shocked, and Dean was drunk.

“Heyyyyya Sammy boy!” Dean took a clumsy step towards his brother.

“I asked you a question!” Sam’s rage was evident. He eyed the cheap looking woman standing next to his brother. She had fishnets and heels on, seriously! Who the fuck actually wears that? She and Dean were in the ally next to the bar where their dad frequented. Sam knew what kind of sleaze owned the place so he assumed that Dean would be able to pass the guy a couple twenties and get in without ID.

“Hey now, don’t be a bitch little brother.” Dean smiled sloppily and still had a bottle in his hand. “Just havin’ some fun.”

“Yeah well, venereal disease, amusement park… who can tell the difference.” Sam snarked at him, then eyed the girl. Who was also much too old for his brother.

“Don’t be like that, come on. You have lottttttts’a fun, remember? Plus, she likes to have a good time too. At least I think she does.” Dean looked at the girl and considered that he could be wrong. He wasn’t. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind a little double dick action. You want in?” He cocked an eyebrow at Sam, but the woman snorted in disapproval.

“What? Are you too classy for that?” Not that Sam was considering it, he just didn’t understand how a woman like that thought she had the right to judge them. The woman completely ignored the both of them and returned to the bar, casting her reel for the next senseless catch.

“Now look what you did! Bein’ a little cock block, like always!” Dean was getting mad at his brother’s presence.

“We’re going home Dean.” Sam took a step closer to him to grab his arm. Dean moved too fast.

“You always were a cock block. You know that? Probably why I’ve never had time to have an actual relationship. Or hell, a one night stand at least.” Dean raises his beer in the air, as if it’d reiterate his point… I don’t know, it made sense to drunk Dean.

“I mean, did ya see what jus happened? Gonna’ get laid, then here you come, and nope not anymore!”

“Trust me, I was doing you a favor. You shouldn’t touch that pussy with a ten foot pole.” Dean looked stunned for a miniscule instant before returning to his debauchery.

“Look at you talkin’ dirty!” Dean laughed, sadistically amused. “Who’da known ‘pussy’ was in your vocabulary?” He pondered it for a while. Then, “Anyhow, I’m sure you’ve had worse. I don’t know how many people you’ve ‘touched with your pole,’ but I bet it’s more than what’s poked her.”

Sam decided he’s done having this conversation. He tries to get his brother under control. But, he continued.

“You know, if I hadn’t had to raise a fucking _child_ , maybe I’d be _normal_.”

“Dean, don’t. Not here. Let’s go home.” Sam pleaded with him. Trying to speak reason and not emotion.

“Maybe I’d be normal if it weren’t for you.” Dean’s words were slurred and filled with razor blades. Cutting deep into Sam’s soul.

“Stop it.” Sam demanded.

“You know I’m right.” Dean took a step towards Sam and now Sam was the one to retreat.

“Fuck you, Dean.” Sam’s chest felt heavy, his insides were aching. He needed to get away.

“Don’t walk away from me, you asswipe! This is your fault! You did this to me!” Dean yells after him. “You’re why I’m fucked up!” Sam’s pace quickens. He can’t do this. He can’t hear it. This is all too much.

“I know you can hear me, you freak!”

The pain subsided. Sam stopped, and slowly turned to face his brother.

“Oh, I guess I just had to call you by your name huh?”

Sam started walking back to his brother.

“Aww, did I hurt baby brother’s feelings?”

Sam didn’t have a train of thought before he swung at Dean’s face. His fist smashed into his brother’s jaw and Dean hit the ground. He didn’t move. Sam stood there, waiting for anything. Dean still didn’t move. Sam’s heart started to speed up again. He nudged Dean with his foot but didn’t get a reaction. He started to panic. He knelt next to his brother’s body and held his face in his hands.

“Dean?” Sam panicked. “Dean… get up.” Sam felt his brother’s neck for his pulse. It was there and it was strong. He must’ve just been _that_ wasted. Sam fished the impala keys from his brother’s pocket then picked up his heavy body from the asphalt and slung him over his shoulder. Sam was strong but not strong enough to carry Dean all the way home. He found the impala and threw Dean in the backseat. Driving illegally was better than any alternatives.

Back at the house Sam pulled his brother’s boots off and put him in his bed. Sam was tired, exhausted really. Probably more mentally than physically. He wanted to go to his own bed, but he was worried that Dean might choke on his vomit or some other gross shit that drunk people do then die. Not that he should really care right now.

Sam crawled into bed next to Dean. He laid there and wondered if he had kept Dean from a ‘normal’ life. If Dean hadn’t had to spend his time caring for Sam, maybe he would’ve found some happiness somewhere. Sam felt guilty for having been born. He wanted to cry and to apologize, but that would only give Dean something else to worry about. He rolled onto his side and curled into himself. Wishing he could go to sleep and hopefully not wake up.

4:07 a.m. Sam’s eyes are snapped open. The sounds of Dean vomiting coming from somewhere in the house. He gets up and follows the echo of the gags. Sam finds him sitting on the couch with a trash can between his legs. His face is red and covered in moisture that Sam isn’t entirely sure is completely from the sickness. He doesn’t say a word but goes into the kitchen for a glass of water. He notices that all the food he’d made was now in the refrigerator. He returns to the living room and holds the glass out to Dean, then sits quietly beside him.

The house is too quiet. It’s creepy. It’s the sound of sleep, and peace, but in the wrong context. It makes it strange, like seeing a cross in a battle, or a good deed with bad incentives. The quiet is unsettling. But suddenly it isn’t so quiet. Sam could hear muffled sobs coming from his brother and he didn’t know what to say. He sat there staring at the reflections in the black TV screen, listening to his brother’s cry. He’d never felt so helpless.

“Sam… I want” Dean’s cry gets louder, as if his voice broke a barrier to more tears. He puts his face in his hands, takes a shaky breath, then starts again. “I want to apologize, but it wouldn’t be enough.” The tears caught in Dean’s stomach and his body started convulsing. Sam swallowed his hesitations and moved closer to him. He wrapped an arm around his brother’s back.

“You don’t need to. I get it.” He rubbed at Dean’s bare skin despite the clamminess. Dean shook his head.

“No. No, Sam. There is no excuse. None whatsoever, that would make that ok. God, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so” Dean lost his voice to the sobs again. Sam rested his cheek on his brother’s shoulder and wrapped his other arm around his front. Holding him. Listening to his jagged fragile pieces shatter even smaller.

“Don’t be Dean. It’s fine. I’m fine.” Sam tried to reassure him. He just needed Dean to be better.

“It wasn’t true. Not one word of it. You have to believe me, I swear to God. I didn’t mean any of it. I was just… scared, and lost. Man, am I lost.” Sam placed a soft kiss to his brother’s shoulder, and Dean’s cries started to slow.

“Let’s go back to bed. We can talk in the morning, okay?”

For a long time neither of them responded or moved.

Finally Sam sat up from leaning on his brother. He stood and held a hand out for Dean. Surprisingly, Dean held it and allowed Sam to lead him back to bed.

Once they were there Sam pulled the covers over them both. Dean wouldn’t look him in the eyes. But, Sam was watching him. The grief on his face, the pure misery radiating through. Sam didn’t wait for a suggestion. He didn’t wait to think it through, or to let fear get in the way. He simply reached a hand out and pulled Dean into him. Sam let his chin fall against Dean’s hair, and he let Dean use his arm as a pillow. He rubbed his other hand softly across his brother’s back and held him tight. He wanted the emotion to seep out of him and into Dean. He needed Dean to be ok. He wanted him to feel the way he loved him, through his contact. He held onto Dean, like he was holding onto his life. Maybe even more so. He felt Dean relax, he hadn’t protested even for a second. For once in his life he’d allowed Sam to take care of him. Sam felt Dean’s breathing change, and his nose nuzzled into Sam’s neck. They both found sleep fast.

In the morning their legs were still tangled together when Sam opened his eyes to see Dean staring at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for hateful Dean... just be patient =) I have the last two chapters roughly finished I just need to edit and polish a bit. They'll be up soon. Constructive criticism is always welcome. I hope y'all enjoy!


	7. Chapter 7

“’Mornin’ sunshine” Sam grinned and stretched his back, reaching his arms high above his head hitting his knuckles against the wall accidentally. The warm sun was embracing the room, his beautiful brother was right beside him, and for an instant everything felt perfect. For that brief moment Sam had forgotten what had happened yesterday. He’d forgotten about the kiss, and the fight with their dad. He’d forgotten about having to hunt Dean down at a bar, or him puking at 4am… From the time he opened his eyes until now all he’d thought was, _I got to sleep with Dean… again_. And he smiled not just internally. But, now he remembers everything and the smile slowly fades.

“Do we really have to talk?” Dean’s voice is soft, and open but full of hesitations. Sam weighed the idea in his mind, and he really didn’t want to. He wanted to just forget it and go back to, _Hey! I’m cuddling with Dean_.

“Not unless you want to.” Sam decides is the best answer. After a long moment Dean replies.

“I don’t wanna like, psychoanalyze or anything. But, I need to tell you that I’m sorry. I know it don’t mean anything, and I know it ain’t enough but I still gotta say it: I’m sorry.”

Dean takes his eyes away from Sam and lets them roam the mattress then the walls. To say that he feels like a piece of shit wouldn’t even begin to cover it. He doesn’t know what happened, most of it he doesn’t remember, but he does remember enough. Enough to know that he was the epitome of an asshole. He feels a light touch of Sam’s hand on his. Dean’s eyes snap back to him. How could he even remotely feel like touching him? And it should probably be an issue that they’re both this comfortable in the same bed together.

“I know you were upset, and scared… and that’s why you pushed me. Maybe I shouldn’t have kissed you.” Sam tickled softly over Dean’s fingertips wishing to God that Dean would tell him he’s wrong. He looks back to meet Dean’s bright eyes.

“No.” He says too quickly. “I mean, the kiss was… good.” He gives Sam a grin that could be mistaken for ‘shy’ if Sam didn’t know better. The expression didn’t last long and Dean continued.

“Mainly for the bar, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it, you know that, right?” Dean was begging him to understand.

Sam was confused. He didn’t remember Dean doing or say anything that he should’ve apologized for at the bar. Unless it’s just that he was at the bar, and that Sam had to bring his passed out drunk ass home. But he didn’t want to press it.

He tries to end Dean’s unsubstantiated guilt by saying, “It’s fine. I’m fine, I promise.” Dean seemed to accept that.

“Can I tell you something?” Sam asked.

“Of course… anything…” Dean replied. Sam couldn’t tell if he was nervous or scared of what he was waiting to hear.

“Well, you’re always talkin’ about me bein’ a sex freak” Sam tiptoed into the conversation but he was cut off.

“I shouldn’ta said ‘nything. It’s not my business, I’m sorry for that too.”

“Quit apologizing and jus’ listen, ok?”

Dean nodded a quiet agreement.

“I only ever started sleeping around because I couldn’t have you. I know it sounds gay, but I needed a distraction. I thought you were doing it, and I thought it’d help me too.” Sam confessed. Dean was speechless for a while.

Dean felt Sam’s finger poke into his chest with a quirky smile on his face. “You alive?” He teased. Dean suddenly understood.

“ _You couldn’t have me_? As in, you wanted me? Like, before…?” Dean questioned. And Sam seemed ashamed.

“For as long as I can remember…” Was all Sam could say and then he rolled over, away from Dean.

Sam felt like he shouldn’t have told Dean that. He thought of the spell and remembered that Dean probably didn’t even have actual feelings for him. It made him feel even smaller. He laid there waiting for Dean to leave so that he could continue wallowing in self-pity, but Dean never left.

“You made me food?” Dean remembered.

“Yeah… I didn’t know what else to do.” Sam admitted timidly. Dean was quiet again and Sam wondered if he was about to get up.

“You really do love me?” He heard Dean ask in such a small frightened voice. Sam couldn’t help the laughter in his response.

“So, I can kiss you, sleep next to you, and confess my love for you, and you don’t believe it. But, I make you burgers and pie, and you’re automatically sold?” Sam teased him. He waited for Dean to have a smartass comeback, but one never came.

In the amount of time it took for him to wonder why Dean let the talk die, he felt Dean’s entire weight suddenly on top of him. His brother was straddling his hips, and abruptly attached to his face. The shock dwindled promptly when Dean’s tongue started playing at the inside of his cheeks.

“Mmmmm” Sam lets out, then starts kissing back. The foreign wet warmth in his mouth, was like an off switch to his brain. He fights away Dean’s tongue so that he can have a taste of his brother for himself. He doesn’t have time to feel, he just needs Dean like he’s the oxygen that’s making his heart beat. The encounter is sloppy and wet, but somehow still perfect. Dean starts rocking his weight onto his brother’s crotch with the rhythm of his tongue pumping into Sam’s mouth.

Dean takes in Sam. He takes in his saliva, he takes in his smell, he focuses on the marvelous feel of Sam’s pliant body beneath his. Logic tells him that this is wrong, and weird. Logic tells him that this is scary and gross. But his body tells him something completely different. His emotions tell him the opposite. He grinds his ass into Sam’s interested dick. He can feel his brother needy beneath him, and it’s beautiful.

Dean wonders if he should be nervous, this is literally his first time doing anything like this. He doesn’t know where the confidence is coming from, but he decides that nerves don’t belong here. Not between him and Sam.

In a quick steady motion Dean becomes weightless. Sam used one arm to swap their positions, and now he’s on top. He’s kissing at Dean’s jaw and down his neck. He goes back up to taste his mouth, and without thinking he manages a palm onto Dean’s dick. He presses hard down with the heel of his hand as he shifts his body up. His weight comes back down and collides again with Dean rubbing their erections together while his hand still works at his crotch. They’re both coming undone.

There are no rules right now. No laws, no _wrong,_ no dad, or monsters. Right now, it’s just the two of them. Loving who fate has decided for them to love. And it feels fanfuckingtastic.

Dean breaks away from Sam’s mouth gasping for air. He pushes his hips up into his brother’s hand when suddenly it’s gone. He literally whimpers at the loss, until he feels the hands have returned to pull his boxers down. Dean lifts his hips to help out. As quick as they’re off, Sam’s lips are back dancing with Dean’s.

Somewhere in the back of Sam’s mind he remembers the spell. Damn, that’s easy to forget when he’s trying to fuck his brother. His subconscious knows this could be the spell, and if it is Dean will hate him forever after it’s broken. But, there’s no stopping now. He needs to take care of Dean. He needs to show him how much he appreciates him. He has to make him feel how much he’s loved.

Sam trailed his tongue down the center of Dean’s muscular stomach, stopping to explore his belly button. Sam put an open hot mouthed kiss on it, more of a tongue fuck really.

“Fuck, Sammy” Dean was arching up searching for friction, and Sam smiled against his skin.

Sam took the hint, and continued his adventure farther south. He licked feather light flicks, with the bottom of his tongue from base to tip of Dean’s hard cock. At the tip he let his pointed tongue play at the slit before opening wide and taking Dean to his base. He sucked off the pre cum, savoring the salty essence of his brother.

“Jesus, fucking… Gahhh” Dean was feeling so good he let out some signs of his emense gratification. Sam seemed to notice, and he hummed around Dean’s dick when he started to suck up.

Sam has done this a couple of times, but never with anyone who mattered. He’d never cared if he was good or not. But, now he knows he has to be perfect for Dean. He has to make him feel good. He hallows his cheeks and starts to bob his head. He puts his hands on the back of Dean’s ass, encouraging him to fuck up. He doesn’t take much encouraging, Dean’s a good listener.

Dean’s thinking that he needs Sam. He needs to see him, taste him, be with him, please him. He immediately starts fucking into Sam’s mouth, the way that it seemed like Sam wanted. And God was it good… His head was pressing back into the pillow and his hips hadn’t touched the mattress in a while. Suddenly Sam’s mouth was gone. Dean felt lost and oddly degraded until he felt Sam kissing up his stomach to get to his mouth again.

“Long time no see, baby boy” Dean teased against Sam’s kisses.

“Shuddup…” Sam smiled back but didn’t let it take away from his task at hand.

“Missed you” Dean crooned.

“Mhmm” Sam snaked a few tonguey kisses into Dean’s mouth. He used his unoccupied hand to find Dean’s balls. He gave them a few subtle squeezes before leaving them unsatisfied. His fingers traveled lower until they discovered Dean’s center. He pressed a flat fingertip against it and pulled away from Dean’s mouth for a brief second, long enough to ask the question. He sees the answer in his brother’s eyes, and his finger passes his entrance.

Immediately Dean is squirming. “Holy hell!”

“You’ve gotta’ relax, big brother” Sam breathed at him then wondered if he was pushing his boundaries by calling Dean ‘big brother.’ He was met with a pleasure filled groan that told him he wasn’t.

“There ya go, jus like that.” He prods a little before removing it from Dean. He puts it and a second finger into his mouth, and lets them get sloppy wet with spit. Dean’s eyes are blown, full of excitement, anticipation, and maybe a hint of fear. That last one doesn’t take long to diminish though.

He grabs at Sam’s hand forcing him to put it back inside him.

“Damn Dean” Sam’s cock twitched at his brother’s neediness. He obliges and let’s both fingers slide in this time. He’s so damn tight, it’s ridiculous. Sam’s almost afraid to move. Almost. He starts circling slowly then goes to crooking them. That seemed to do it. He can tell by the way Dean’s body is levitating off of the bed and his orgasmic moans. Dean grinds down into them and asks Sam for more. Sam doesn’t mind giving at all.

He puts a third finger with the other two and tries to flex them out. It’s hard, really hard. But not impossible. He’s suddenly concerned.

“Is it too much? Just tell me and I’ll stop” Internally he’d whine forever though.

“Don’t you fucking dare… Jehhhh…” He lost his ability to speak when Sam discovered his euphoric spot. “Better not… stop… Don’t fuckingggg ever.”

Sam pressed on vigorously into his brother’s ass, feeling newly arrogant with the way Dean was completely incoherent.

“Dean, you’re so friggin’ tight.” He says in awe. He’s amazed at how Dean’s ass is devouring his fingers.

“Not enough Sammy” Dean whined. “Give me your dick. Come on, I need it.” Dean commanded him. Because Dean Winchester didn’t beg. And Sam didn’t need to be begged. He’d been trying to make this good for Dean, at the expense of his own neglected dick.

Sam sat up and lined his leaking Dick with Dean. He didn’t need a second to think, he just pushed his hips forward. He slid in like that’s where was designed to fit. His hips were flush with Dean’s round ass and he met his brother’s eyes. They were closed for an instant. His lips were particularly plump and his cheeks flushed. God, he was gorgeous. Dean is the image of sex personified. Sam pulled back a little and started pumping himself into Dean. His brother’s eyes were open now, and they were drinking Sam in.

Dean let his hands rub from Sam’s shoulders down to his hands, then at his abs and up to his face. He pulled him down into a kiss as Sam quickened his pace. Dean felt full. And not just physically. Right now he feels like every empty place in his heart or his life, is being filled by Sam. His body is tight around his brother’s dick, but it’s perfect. He can feel Sam throb inside him, and that’s all he needs. He rides down as Sam thrusts in, and they’re both the same for this period in time. Dean runs his hands through Sam’s hair, and down his back. He puts them on his ass to get leverage. He pushes him harder so Dean can feel more, so Sam can get deeper. Sam rubs his hands up his brother’s stomach and fans them out over his nipples. After a few seconds of play he brings them to his brother’s cock. He starts stroking him in time with the thrusts he’s giving him. From nowhere a thought pops into his mind.

“This is so much better than it was in my dreams.” He manages to tell him, and in that instant Dean is cumming. He’s pulsating the evidence of his orgasm onto Sam’s fist and he’s writhing on the bed. At the site, Sam follows his brother over that edge. He’s filling Dean with his seed. Pushing it as far into his brother as he possibly can. He wishes it’d never leak out. He milks Dean for all he’s worth, and he rides out a few slow pumps of his own softening cock in his brother. Begrudgingly he pulls but hovers over Dean. Dean arches up to meet his mouth and they’re kissing again. Sharing the love that they both feel. Making it a physical action.

Dean realizes that the reason he’d never had sex before was because he’d never had the opportunity to have it with Sam. All of those other people felt wrong, because this is the only thing that will ever feel right. They lay together in a mess of their own passion soaking it all in. There’s no telling how long it would’ve lasted, but the continuous ringing of the phone finally stole the moment.


	8. Chapter 8

“Seriously?….Ughh” Dean groaned as Sam rolled away from him and off of the bed.

“Sorry. It’s been ringing forever.” Sam reminded him.

“Let it ring.” Dean grinned at Sam and with a hint of sarcasm he starts singing, “I wanna know what love isssssssss” He’s nowhere even close to being on key, and his brother starts laughing uncontrollably.

“Oh my God” Sam rolls his eyes and gathers himself.

“I want you to shooooooooow me!” Dean throws a fist into his chest to emphasize the lyrics he’s belting.

“I think that’s enough gay shit for this lifetime.” Sam tells him as he’s walking out of the room while putting on his boxers. Dean started groaning loud enough for Sam to hear in the living room.

“Just as long as were not done _doing_ ‘gay’ shit” He calls out then lays back with his hands beneath his head, looking at the ceiling. He’s smiling. An honest, open, true to God smile. For the first time in… ever.

He basks in all the _Sam._ He’s fluttering around above cloud nineuntil that need comes back with a vengeance. _Sam’s gone_. I’m _alone_. He’s not going to come back. This was all a joke. Maybe it was a dream. There’s a sharp pain in Dean’s chest, strong enough to take his breath and curl his body into a distorted constriction. He thinks he’s dying.

There had been a spell, and now it’s killing him. He can’t find his voice to scream. He searches frantically for something to throw to make noise. Anything to get Sam’s attention. He finds nothing. He needs Sam to come back before it’s too late. The past few days flash before his eyes.

Sitting by Sam on the couch. Seeing him at the party. The threesome. Jerking off in the shower, and needing to be close to Sam. Being kissed. Fitting into his brother’s embrace on the couch. Sam fitting inside of him like that’s what their bodies were designed for. He needs more of Sam. He needs Sam now.

****

Sam hears Dean’s remark about _doing_ gay shit, and he huffs in amusement at his brother’s couth. He picks up the phone a split second before it would’ve quit ringing.

“Heeeello” He drawls it out in a southern accent for no particular reason. He feels giddy.

“Everything alright?” His dad’s voice comes over the line. Sam goes stiff and straightens up. As if his dad can see him.

“Fine Dad, sorry. I couldn’t find the phone.” Sam lies easily.

“’mkay, well I just wanted to let you boys know that I should be home tonight or tomorrow.” His dad sounds honestly cheerful.

“Did you get the witch?” Sam questions and throws a glance at the bedroom where Dean lay naked and fucked open. His stomach drops now that he isn’t in the moment. God, what if it was just a spell? Dean’s going to physically kill him.

“Actually… wasn’t a witch. It was a trickster. Bobby figured it out before I even got there.” Sam’s relief was palpable. He heard his dad trying to bring the conversation to an end.

“That’s good. But Hey, Dad?” He tiptoes on eggshells.

“Yeah son?”                

“Are you still mad at Dean?” The line goes quiet.

“Dad? You there?” He asks.

“Why would I be mad at Dean?” His father’s voice is honestly confused. So is Sam.

“The whole fight thing yesterday…”

“Dean got in a fight?” His dad was suddenly interested.

“No Dad” Sam didn’t know what to say now. “You really don’t remember?”

“Whatever it was, must not’ve been too bad if I can’t remember why I’m ‘sposed to be mad.” His dad’s tone seemed like he was insinuating Sam is insane.

Sam contemplates the pieces of his new puzzle.

“I guess… one more question before ya go”

“What is it Sammy?”

“Did you take your journal with you?” His dad was quiet for a second.

“Yeah, at first I thought I forgot it but then I found it stashed under the bench seat.” His dad answered. “Almost had to turn back for it. Guess my age really is showing huh? The memory’s not too good these days.”

“Huh.” Was all Sam could respond. His Dad seemed to catch the unease.

“You sure everything’s ok?” He asks and Sam snaps out of it.

“Yeah Dad, fine. I’ll see you tonight ok?”

“Sure thing. Take care Son. Tell your brother I checked in.”

“Will do.” Sam replied, then ended the call.

He had no idea what to make of anything. If their ‘dad’ didn’t come back yesterday then who was that trying to hurt Dean? Oh God! What if he’d been possessed?! Wait, no… there’s a devils trap on the porch and at the front door. That couldn’t be it. Maybe Dean would have some ideas.

Ahhhh, _Dean_. His brother truly loved him. He remembered. It wasn’t a spell, it was real. That giddy feeling completely overruled the other worry, and he went bouncing back into the bedroom to find Dean.

Well, he found him. Doubled over in pain. Dripping sweat with agony on his face.

“DEAN!” His heart exploded. He ran to his brother. “Talk to me, Dean! What happened?” Dean didn’t seem to hear. He was staring into the air, not seeing anything. His eyes bloodshot and shining with moisture. His face was flushed and Sam had no idea what to do.

Dean couldn’t speak. If he were to try, it would break something in him. He had to stay quiet to endure the pain. He had to ride it out. He was holding on for life by a frayed thread. He prayed for the pain to end, even if it ended him.

By some vague subconscious feeling, he sensed Sam. That made all this a little better. He couldn’t see him, or feel him really. But he could tell that he was there. _Sam’s back_ , he thinks. _He didn’t leave_. His pain lessens a little. It turns dull instead of stabbing. It allows Dean to uncurl a bit. His body tells him that there’s a hand on his face. _It must be Sam! Sam’s touching me again_. The comforting hand rubs over his forehead then it settles on his jaw. _I need to acknowledge Sam. I just need Sam and I’ll be fine_ , he thinks. His vision comes back, it slowly becomes clearer. The first thing he sees is his brother’s beautiful face. Dean smiles.

“Those eyes” Dean thinks. Well, _he thought_ … he thought. But I guess he said it. Sam’s expression goes from panic to confusion and settles on a mild amusement.

“My eyes?” He questions.

Dean has control of his body again. He unfolds completely and clears his throat.

“What?” He felt unreasonably embarrassed.

“You know what.” Sam grins.

“Whatever.” Dean huffs and it makes Sam laugh openly. “You’re the one that said no more gay shit.” He reminds Sam, and he nods in agreement.

“Ok, I’ll let that go.” Sam teases. Then the reality of the situation sinks in.

“What just happened to you?” He asks.

“You said you’d let it go!” Dean remarked in a childish tone.

“Not that, dipshit. I meant the whole near death experience.”

“Oh.” Was all Dean could say.

“You don’t know?” Sam asked. Dean was quiet. That was a no.

Sam stands and starts getting dressed, Dean wasn’t happy about it.

“What you gotta go and do that for?” He whined, and Sam laughed again.

“I like how things such as… _my eyes_ … make you all needy and childish.” Sam told him honestly. Dean didn’t take it to heart.

“Jerk.” He crossed his arms to enunciate his pout.

“Bitch.” Sam chimed back out of habit. He tossed a pair of jeans to his brother, smacking him in the face. Maybe accidentally but probably not. Dean just groaned but took the hint and started getting dressed.

Dean started cooking breakfast. Sam could smell the bacon from the couch. His stomach growled in anticipation. He’d requested oatmeal, but Dean seemed to be trying to be extra nice. He maybe was even acting vaguely guilty but Sam didn’t want to read into it. And when bacon is concerned… Sam isn’t gonna argue.

When Dean entered the living room with two bowls of buttery sweetened oatmeal and a plate of bacon balanced on one of them, Sam was weighing a cell phone in his hand.

“You callin’ somebody?” He questions as he hands a bowl to Sam and takes his place beside him.

“Probably Bobby.” Sam admits. “And, Dad’s on his way home.” He adds.

Dean nearly chokes. “Nice time to give me an, ‘oh by the way’!” He’s instantly mad.

“No Dean, don’t worry. Dad doesn’t remember coming back yesterday.” Sam reassures him.

“What do you mean, he doesn’t remember?” Dean’s eyes are wide in confusion.

“Just what I said. He doesn’t remember coming back.” Sam tells him. “And the witch wasn’t a witch. It was a trickster.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t know, he said Bobby figured it out first. So I’m gonna call him.”

Dean seems to have an internal contemplation before returning his attention to his breakfast in resolve. He shifts his body sideways and kicks his feet onto the cushion beside him. His back is resting against Sam’s boney elbow. Dean throws his head back pointedly a few times, butting it against Sam’s shoulder.

“Seriously?” Sam huffs, but he gets the hint and lifts his arm so that Dean can put his head down. He rests his hand on his brother’s chest. Dean stretches out and scoots closer into Sam, into his place that feels like home. He continues eating his breakfast.

“You know, it’s kinda hard to eat oatmeal with one had since I have to hold the bowl with it.” He informs Dean.

“Then don’t eat.” Dean snaps.

“But, you made it for me. How can you tell me not to eat?” Sam’s voice is irritated and high pitched.

“Who say’s I made it for you?” Dean sounds snarky, as usual.

“Um. You asked me what I wanted, I told you, you made it, and brought it to me.” He says flatly, in list format.

“You callin’ me a bitch?” Dean says with petty aggravation.

“God, Dean. I’ll just set it down and hold only the spoon.” He looks at the coffee table. It’s too far to use if Dean isn’t going to sit up. He considers putting it on the arm of the couch then decides against it. He sets the broad base of the warm bowl on the crown of Dean’s head that’s just above Sam’s lap. Just the right height for a table.

“Perfect.” He says, proud of himself. Then gets a spoonful. Dean holds completely still.

“Man you’re a douche.” Dean retorts but doesn’t move his head.

“Hey, I could use the actual table if you wanted to get up.” He tells him. Dean doesn’t get up, and he continues to hold his head steady. Sam smiles to himself and continues eating his breakfast.

While Dean gathers the dishes Sam makes a call. He’s suddenly nervous.

“Hey Bobby, it’s Sam.”

“How ya doin’ son?” Bobby greets him.

“I’m doin’ good. Real good.” He looks at Dean with meaning. “How about yourself?”

“Oh ya know, too careful to be stupid, too stupid to care. Same ‘ole, same ‘ole. What can I do for ya boy?” He offers knowing that Sam has a point.

“Not much, I was just wondering… Dad said you killed a trickster?”

“Yep, I figured I’d be hearin’ from one of you two sooner or later. That nincompoop was a talky little bitch.” Bobby spouted off.

“Talky?” Sam’s nerves exploded, his fingers felt unsure of their grip on the phone. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead.

“Yeah… I think that’s all you need to know. I know it had some fun with Dean, but it should be over now.” Bobby tells him.

“What did it do, exactly?” Sam asks feeling scared of the answer he’d get.

“A lot. It got in his head, seen what he was afraid of and played out his fears like they were real. He might have a couple episodes where he’s real sick, but it’s just the trickster’s essence dyin’ out of him. Should be over in a day or so.”

Sam could understand that Dean was afraid of disappointing their dad… maybe that’s what that trickster induced ‘scene’ was about. But he thought about Dean’s frantic apologies towards himself. He wondered if maybe there had been a fake scene involved with that too. Maybe one of Dean’s worse fears was to hurt Sam. Hence the apologies.

“He’ll be ok?”

“As ok as he ever was…” Bobby tells Sam in a tone that’s full of innuendo. Sam didn’t know how to reply. He knows… that Bobby knows… maybe not everything, but definitely something.

“You boys know I love ya… even if you are… ya know” He paused and Sam felt like dying. He was waiting to hear, ‘freaks’, ‘incestuous’, ‘disgusting.’ He was prepared for pretty much anything besides what he heard, “Idjits.”

Sam let out a breath of relief, he felt a weight lift off of him.

“Thank you Bobby.” He tried to put as much meaning into the simple phrase as possible.

“Anytime, keep in touch.”

“You too.”

The call was over. Dean was getting better. All of the feelings had been real. They were going to be ok. He felt like crying. Or jumping. Maybe singing. But then he noticed the way Dean’s hips wiggled subtly as he was scrubbing at the breakfast dishes.

Fucking. That’s definitely what he felt like doing.

He made a sly walk through the kitchen, trying to be quiet. He came up behind unsuspecting Dean and grabbed a hard grip onto his hips. Dean let out a yelp of surprise that was muted when Sam rode his crotch forcefully against Dean’s ass.

“You know how you were always calling me a whore?” He murmured, then moved his lips to the fleshy muscle between Dean’s neck and his shoulders. He ran his hands to Dean’s pants, undid them with an experienced movement and bit down on his neck. Dean let out a shocked whimper, he considered being mad, but fuck that was hot. Sam grabbed his brother’s dick and gave the puffy bite on his neck a lick. He took in the scent of Dean. The heat… the lust.

“Answer me somethin’… would you consider what we did this morning to be along the lines of… love making?” He crooned into Dean’s ear then nibbled at his earlobe. He could almost hear Dean roll his eyes, but the sensation of getting his cock stroked while his ass was being humped, seemed to be winning over the trait of being a smartass. Dean lifted his hips and grind back into Sam. Sam moved his hands to lift Dean’s shirt then twisted at his nipples without removing his teeth from his ear. He nibbled and sucked as he rolled Dean’s nubs hard between his fingers. Dean was already ridden speechless.

“Well, now… I have a few things to teach you, big brother… teach you how to _fuck_.”

Dean’s eyes shot open, his legs went weak and Sam steadied him. Dean turned and looked up into his brother’s hazel eyes. He doesn’t know how either of them could’ve ever worried that this feeling was because of a lust spell. There’s no way that would ever be even remotely plausible. This was _love_. Sam gave him a dimpletastic smile with a look in his sparkling happy eyes that said, ‘ _I’m gonna ravage you.’_ Dean’s breath hitched and he bit his bottom lip in a way that replied, ‘ _Please do_.’

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it's finished! If there's anything particularly that you really liked feel free to tell me, or even if there was something really bad that you think took away from the story tell me that too. I hope I didn't waste your all's time. =)


End file.
